The Hilltop
by GoodJuju
Summary: The Admiral and The Bartender
1. Default Chapter

He'd been sitting there for at least three hours now, but he was only on his second beer. I knew, because I'd been watching. Of course, that wasn't exactly news to anyone but him. Sitting on that stool at the end of the bar was, without a doubt, the sexiest man to ever walk into The Hilltop Lounge, the rundown little bar that my daddy had left me fifteen years ago. It wasn't much to look at, but every once in a while something would happen to liven up the usual smoke and spilled beer. Usually, he managed to make my night when he showed up. Not that he ever showed any interest, or even awareness of my interest in him. 

He wasn't Mel Gibson handsome, but I wasn't exactly Julia Roberts, so that was fine by me. He was tall, though, and had a certain rugged charm. He carried an air of authority that even the drunks seemed to recognize and he wore it as casually as he did his uniform, as if he'd been born to it. His voice, when he decided to talk, was deep with a trace of Texas, but that wasn't the most appealing part. His eyes. I could write pages about his eyes, and I usually did, in my journal on the nights when he'd stop by. 

Most nights when he came in, he'd smile and talk to me for a little while, longer if we weren't busy, but tonight something was bothering him. Those deep dark eyes didn't have their usual spark, and he'd barely ordered the beers. He didn't even attempt the smile. Instead he'd just stared into his glass like he was looking for answers to some pretty tough questions. 

Checking to see that my only other remaining customers were engrossed in a game of pool in the corner, I wandered over to see if I could get Mr. Sexy-eyes to talk. I leaned back against the bar as I took a position directly in front of him. "AJ? You doing all right, darlin?" 

For the first time all night, he looked at me and I felt my stomach flip, just like it always did when he turned that dark gaze my way. I wondered if the Navy had developed that way he had of looking at you that felt like a laser peering into your soul, and a deep pool of sweet chocolate at the same time. This time there was something else there though. A hint of sadness and perhaps loneliness. Finally, he spoke. "If I said yes, would you believe me?" 

I shook my head. "Not a chance. But I will leave you alone if you'd like." 

I turned to walk back to the other end of the bar, but that drawl stopped me. "No, please. I'm sorry, it's just been a hell of a day." 

I settled back against the cooler box, preparing to take on my designated duty as bartender. "You want to talk about it?" 

He gave me a lazy half smile that made my stomach do a little flip. "No way in hell." He took another drink of his beer. "Tell me your day was good. It would be nice to know someone had one." 

I shrugged. "Well, it wasn't bad. Same old same old. Nothing exciting." 

That half smile grew just a little. "Nothing exciting. That would be..." 

His attention was drawn to the TV set above the bar. Whatever he saw there wiped the smile off his face and tightened his hand around his beer mug. I glanced over my shoulder to see that ZNN reporter, Stuart Something-or-other, standing in front of a building. The graphic in the corner of the screen said that he was at Bethesda Hospital. I grabbed the remote and turned up the volume, so that I could hear what he was saying over the noise from the pool table. The report was about a Naval Officer who'd been injured in Afghanistan. Apparently there was an investigation to find out why a Navy JAG Lt. had been in a position to get his leg blown off by a land mine outside a small village. 

"AJ?" 

There was no response. I turned back toward him and saw a tightening around his eyes and mouth that, along with the now almost white knuckled grip he had on that mug, hinted at some deep emotion. "Aren't you with JAG?" 

He nodded. "He's one of my officers. I swear, if that Dunston doesn't tread lightly around this, I'll skin him myself and hang his hide in my office." 

The pain in his voice was palpable. 

"It sounds like he's more than just one of your officers." I tried to keep my voice neutral, but my heart was breaking for him. 

"I don't know how it happened. I was always careful to never get too close to my officers, but this group I have now..." 

Tentatively, I covered his free hand with one of mine. "He's become your friend." 

He laughed sadly. "It's more than that. He and his wife named their son after me. Hell, I even delivered him." 

"It sounds like they're almost family." 

"They are. And now, he and his wife have to accept the fact that he's lost his leg." AJ shook his head. "Then again, if anyone can handle it, they can. They lost a child last year. I thought for a while that it was going to tear them apart, but in the end, they wound up stronger than ever. I really think they have what it takes to make it through this." 

I couldn't imagine a couple going through anything like this, and something inside my chest twisted just a little bit tighter. "They sound like a special couple." 

"They are." He looked down at my hand on his as if he was just noticing it. Just as I thought he was going to pull away, he turned his hand over and grasped mine firmly. "Thanks Dottie. Maybe I needed to tell someone about it after all." 

That knot in my chest loosened a bit. "Anytime, AJ. Anytime." 


	2. chapter 2

The start of another slow night at the Hilltop Lounge. I was behind the bar, as usual, washing glasses that were already clean. Donny and Leon were at the pool table, and a couple of college kids were nursing beers and shooting darts. Thank God this place was already paid for, or I'd be worrying about paying the bills. As it was, I was probably going to have to lay off one of my weekend waitresses. Everybody seemed to be going to the newer, fancier bars around. If there was anything the Hilltop wasn't, it was fancy. I thought about bringing in a kareoke machine on Friday nights, but so far I hadn't had to resort to that. The problem wasn't that the bar had changed, it was that the neighborhood had. When my father opened this place, it was a quiet little community, but it had gradually changed into an upscale suburb. Upscale suburbs meant upscale people, who expected more with their beer or bourbon than just popcorn and a jukebox. The door opened, letting in a stream of late afternoon sunlight as a tall figure walked in. My outlook on the day improved as I recognized my favorite customer. 

"Hey, AJ. Get you a beer?" 

He shook his head as he took a seat at the bar. "Got any scotch?" 

I took one look at his haggard expression and reached for the 15 year old Glenfiddich, the best I had. I poured a generous amount into a glass and set it in front of him. "What's wrong?" 

He took a sip from the glass before answering. "What's right?" 

"Is it that Lt. Roberts? How's he doing?" 

"Physically, he's doing better. Emotionally, he's a mess." 

I'd suspected as much. As little as I knew this man, I knew that he hurt much deeper for his friends than he ever did for himself. "Well, this thing has got to be hard to deal with. He's in the prime of his life, and now that whole life has changed." 

AJ just nodded and stared into the liquor. 

"You know, I am pretty good at listening, if you want to talk about it. That is what bartenders do." I was trying my best to lighten his mood, but it didn't appear to be working. When he didn't answer, I kept going. "How is his wife handling it?" 

"As well as she can. From what I've seen and what she's told me, he's shut himself off from her. Won't even let her bring their son to see him in the hospital." He paused to take another drink. "Damn fool can't see that he's pushing her away." 

"Maybe he can." That finally brought his eyes up to mine. "Maybe he thinks she'll be better off without him." 

"He'd better be careful. If he pushes too hard she may start to agree with him." The bitterness in his voice was so strong I could taste it. 

"Is that what you did, AJ?" He looked shocked, but I couldn't stop myself. "Did you push someone away when you shouldn't have?" 

"This isn't about me." He swallowed a big slug of the scotch this time. 

"Isn't it? Don't you see your friend making the same mistake you did at some point?" Where the hell was all of this coming from? I knew next to nothing about this man, but these words kept pouring out of me. "It's true, isn't it?" 

Silently, he slid the glass back toward me. I refilled it and slid it back, just as silently. He downed half of it in one swallow before answering. "AJ's the same age as Francesca was when..." 

When he didn't finish the sentence, I asked softly, "Who's Francesca, AJ?" 

He was staring into the mirror behind the bar as he answered. "My daughter. She was the same age that AJ Roberts is now when my wife left. I didn't see her again until just a few years ago. I missed her entire childhood." 

I had to remind myself to breathe. "Oh, AJ." He turned his eyes to mine again with the years of pain and regret in them and I melted inside. "I'm sorry. I didn't know." 

"Really? You seemed pretty psychic there for a few minutes." 

I shrugged. "Bartender's instincts." 

That finally got a half smile out of him. "Well then, Dottie, you must be one hell of a bartender." 

"Was there ever any doubt?" 

He stood up and reached for his wallet. "None whatsoever." 

"Leaving so soon?" 

"Yeah. I need to get to the hospital to have a little talk with someone. How much do I owe you?" 

"It's on the house." When he started to look stubborn, I gave him my best haughty raised-eyebrow, I'm-in-charge look. "Hey, you may be an Admiral, but this is my little ship and what I say goes." 

His eyes warmed as he gave me that drop dead smile I'd been waiting for since he walked in. "Aye aye, ma'am." 

I watched him walk out into the fading light. "Hoo yah, AJ. Hoo yah." 


	3. chapter 3

I felt myself relax for the first time in days as I pulled my truck into the parking lot of the Hilltop Lounge. McMurphy's is nice, but since it had been adopted as the de facto after hours hang out for the crew of JAG, I'd had to find some place new to unwind away from them. This little bar was quiet, friendly, and close to home, in case I decided to indulge in more than my usual limit of two beers. That temptation had come more frequently since Bud's accident. Even though he had taken my advice, and stopped pushing his wife away, he was still having trouble adjusting to his condition. After worrying about the Robertses, dealing with Rabb's tendency to try to save the world single-handedly, and listening to yet another of SecNav's harangues, I didn't want to see anyone from the office while I tried to unwind. 

I opened the door and walked into the comfortably dim light of the bar. Taking my usual seat near the end, I waited for Dottie to wander over and chat for a while, like she always did. When she finally came over to take my order, her usual welcoming smile was nowhere to be seen. Her face was more pale than normal except for her nose and eyes which were bright red. Before I could decide if she had a cold or had been crying, another woman came hurrying in the door. 

The brunette burst in with a flash of bright sunlight from the door. "Dottie, sorry it took me so long but I'm here now. Are you sure you're ok to drive?" 

Before the brunette had even set her purse behind the counter, Dottie had grabbed hers and her jacket and was walking out the door. "Yeah, I'm fine. I really appreciate you coming in today, Rach. I thought I could handle it but..." Her voice broke and she swiped a tear from her cheek impatiently. 

"No problem. You go do what you need to do and forget all about this place for a little while. We'll be fine," the brunette replied to Dottie's back as she walked out the door. 

As soon as she'd tied an apron around her waist, the new face walked down toward me. "Hi, I'm Rachel. What can I get for you?" 

"What's wrong with Dottie?" I heard myself ask. 

"It's June 11th," she replied, as if that answered everything. 

When she saw my blank look, she elaborated. "Sorry, I thought everyone knew. Today is the day that her husband and child died ten years ago." 

"My God." It hit me how little I really knew about this woman I'd been spilling my guts to. "How did it happen?" 

"Car wreck. Some teenager in a stolen car hit them head on right after Travis had picked up Neely from school." Rachel cocked her head to the side as she watched me closely. "Mister, are you ok?" 

I realized quickly that I wasn't. "No, I um... thank you." Grabbing my cover, I headed for the door, hoping I was fast enough. 

Luck was with me as I saw Dottie's sedan pull out of the parking lot. I quickly got in my truck and followed her. I wasn't sure what I planned to do or why I was doing this at all. I knew she probably needed her space, but I needed to be nearby, just in case she needed me. A large part of my brain was telling me that she wouldn't need me, she didn't even know I was around, but a small corner, the part that had kept me alive in Viet Nam, was telling me to stick close to her. I made it a habit to listen to that part whenever possible. 

After about fifteen minutes of driving, she pulled into a grocery store parking lot. I considered following her inside, but I just sat in the truck and watched for her. A few minutes later, she came out with a small bouquet of pink roses and climbed back into the car. Her next stop was at the nearby cemetery. I pulled up behind her, but she didn't notice as she got out carrying the flowers. I waited as she approached a tombstone a few yards from her car. She gently laid the roses down in front of the tombstone and knelt down. I saw her trace the writing with her fingers, and had to turn away. I was starting to feel like I was intruding on her grief, which I suppose I was, but I couldn't play the voyeur any longer. I got out of the truck and eased the door shut. She didn't hear me approach, so I stopped two headstones over and cleared my throat. Startled, she looked up at me, swiping her tears away again. That fierce determination to hide her vulnerability touched me much more deeply than I'd thought it would, and I realized that I wanted her to feel free to open up to me. That thought surprised me so much that I almost didn't hear her when she spoke. 

"What are you doing here?" her voice was defensive so I knew I'd have to read lightly. 

"I, um, I knew you were upset, so I followed you to make sure you were ok." 

"Dammit. Rachel told you, didn't she?" 

I nodded. 

"She had no right. No Right, Dammit!" She gave up on keeping up with the tears now. They were falling faster than she could wipe them away. 

Part of me wanted to reach out and hold her, and another wanted to turn and run. I've faced the Viet Cong, terrorists, Mafia gunmen, kidnappers, presidential inquiries, and the SecNav in a bad mood, but nothing gave me the jitters like a crying woman. Forcing myself to stand my ground, I tried just once. "Do you want me to go?" 

"Yes. No. God, I don't know, AJ." The way her voice cracked at the end told me I was a goner. 

In three steps I was beside her, then I was kneeling with her on the dry sun-baked grass, my arm around her shoulders as she sobbed into my chest. I tried not to think about how good her arms felt wrapped around me, holding her soft body close to mine. I couldn't stop my free hand from gently brushing her dark auburn hair away from her face, then continuing to run my fingers through the soft waves, watching the few silver strands catch the afternoon light. I whispered what I hoped were comforting words to her, but I couldn't even swear as to what exactly I said. 

After a few minutes her sobs subsided and she pulled back from my embrace. I found myself reluctant to let her go. Her eyes, even though red and swollen, caught my attention. I'd never noticed before that there was a band of dark green surrounding the brown of her irises. Thinking back, I realized that her eyes seemed to change color from brown to green depending on her mood. 

I handed her a handkerchief and she took it with a watery smile. "I didn't know men still carried these." 

I just shrugged, no knowing what to say. She finished wiping her eyes and nose and tucked the handkerchief in her pocket. "I'll get this back to you." 

"There's no hurry." Well, as Tiner would say, that was lame. "Do you want to talk about it?" 

Dottie shook her head. "Not yet. Come on, let's get out of here. My knees are too old for this." 

I stood and took her hand to help her to her feet. "Come on, Dottie. You're younger than I am." 

"But you're in better shape than I am." The certainty in her voice spoke of previous inspection. I assured myself that she was simply an observant woman who paid attention to all of her customers. As I escorted her back to her car she walked slightly ahead of me, giving me the chance for a little inspection of my own. What I saw surprised me. Just how old was I getting that I hadn't noticed the way she looked until today? Damn, I must be slipping. The memory of her in my arms moments before came back to me and the combination of that and the long legs encased by her jeans gave me a good idea as to what exactly she kept hidden behind all those baggy sweatshirts she wore. 

By then we'd reached her car, and she got in. "I'm going home, AJ." 

Before I knew it, I heard myself asking, "Do you want company?" 

Her eyes warmed as she smiled. "Yes, I think I'd like that very much. Why don't you follow me?" 

As I drove behind her for the short trip to her house, I had trouble keeping my mind on the traffic. Visions of those changeable brown eyes kept swimming into my vision. Dancing with laughing green lights as she listened to a joke from a patron in the bar, soft and brimming with compassion as she listened to my problems with Bud, then dark brown and full of pain and grief as she mourned her family. There was a lot I didn't know about this woman, but at least I'd finally recognized that I wanted to know more. 


	4. chapter 4

What the hell was I thinking? My mind was going in circles as I tried to drive home. 'AJ Chegwidden is following me home. What the hell am I doing?' 

Oh, shit. This is so not the way I planned this. And believe me, I'd planned it. And schemed it. And fantasized about it. But not like this. Not today. Today was about Neely, and about Travis. This wasn't supposed to be about AJ. Dammit. I need to remember to kick Rachel's butt when I see her again. Why the hell did she have to tell him about today? And why did he have to follow me to the cemetery? God, I'm glad he did. Oh, man, why did I have to sob all over his shirt? That's an appealing picture. Blubbering woman, red eyes, snotty nose. Shit. 

Oh, hell, we're here. Crap, did I remember to put up the laundry? That would be the perfect topper to this whole fiasco, him walking in to see my ratty underwear lying on the couch. Ok, deep breath. Open the door, you moron, he's standing there waiting on you.' Sighing, I climbed out of the car. 'Let's get this over with.' 

With the best smile I could manage, which wasn't much, I lead AJ up to the door of my house. My head was pounding from a combination of stress and the crying jag I'd had earlier. My hands were trembling so much that I almost dropped the door key before I could get it into the lock. When AJ gently took the key away from me and opened the door, I wanted to cry again. Why the hell was he being so nice to me? God, I had to get a grip on my emotions. He pushed the door open, then stood aside for me to go in. The look on his face said that he was questioning his decision to come here. Who could blame him? I really didn't want to be alone right now, but it was going to be his choice. "Do you still want to come in?" 

"Sure." 

His voice was a lot more sure than his eyes were. 

I lead the way into the living room, throwing a quick glance at the couch. No underwear, thank God. I left him to settle himself in there while I started a pot of coffee. I came back from the kitchen to find him studying the pictures on the mantle. Mentally I braced myself for the questions then decided not to wait for them. I handed him a mug full of coffee and began. "That's Neely there. She was five in that one." 

We moved to sit on the couch. There was a long moment of silence that wore on my nerves, but then again, everything was wearing on my nerves today. 

"She would have been 18 this year." My voice broke and I took a moment to fight back the tears. I was _not_ going to cry again, but I couldn't seem to stop talking. "We would have been looking at colleges for her to go to. She was going to go to college, no matter what it took. She wasn't going to spend her life sitting behind some dingy bar." 

Dammit, there they went again. I swiped the tears away, aggravated at my lack of control. "I'm sorry." 

AJ shook his head and gave me a sexy half grin. "Would you quit apologizing for being human? I can't even imagine the pain of losing a child, but I have lost a woman I loved. I'd say you're holding up amazingly well." 

"That judge you told me about?" 

AJ looked surprised. I assumed he had forgotten that he'd told me about her, but that had been a strange night and he'd had more than usual at the bar. I'd been getting ready to try to talk him out of his keys when a younger man in a three piece suit had shown up. I'd done a double take as he walked in. "Clayton?" 

"Dorothy, how are you?" I hadn't seen Clayton Webb in years, but I'd have known him anywhere. We'd practically grown up together while my mother worked as a housekeeper for Porter Webb, Clayton's mother. 

After a quiet but intense conversation, AJ left with Clayton. The episode hadn't been discussed since. AJ slowly nodded his head. "Laura Delaney. She was killed on the front steps to my house." 

"God, I'm sorry, AJ." 

"I just wanted to say... hell, I don't know what I wanted to say exactly." 

"It's ok. I don't talk about Travis much. I just... well, I don't know if this makes sense, but I feel bad that I didn't feel worse." I stood up and started pacing. "It wasn't that we had a bad marriage, but we didn't really have a good one either. Hell, we probably wouldn't have ever gotten married if I hadn't gotten pregnant with Neely. I'm not saying that he didn't care about me, or that I didn't care about him, but it was never a great love affair. We were... comfortable. God, I feel like such a bitch for saying that now." 

AJ walked over and took my hand. "Don't say that, you're only human." 

"Well, I'm just being truthful, AJ." Dammit, another tear was snaking its way down my cheek. I turned my head and tried to hide it from him, but not fast enough. His free hand tenderly turned my face back toward him, then he wiped the tear away with his finger. His eyes were staring into mine so intensely I couldn't have looked away if I'd tried. His head bent slightly toward me, and I knew he was going to kiss me. But he stopped and straightened before he dropped his hands to his sides. I almost swayed when he pulled away from me, but I caught myself. 

He cleared his throat. "Have you eaten today?" 

My brain took a moment to shake the cobwebs loose before it followed his sudden change of topic. "Um, yeah. Rachel knows how I get on the anniversary, so she brought over a pot of soup yesterday. She says I have no excuse now not to eat." 

He took a step back. "Good. Would you like me to heat some up for you?" The part about 'before I leave' was as plain as if he'd said it out loud. 

"No, that's ok. I'm fine now. Thanks, AJ. You've helped a lot today. Really." I was still trying to figure out what happened with that almost kiss. Maybe some time alone would help. 

"If you need anything, at anytime, give me a call. I'm in the McLean phone book." He looked at me for a moment, as if he were trying to reach a decision. Finally, he seemed to have reached it. He reached up again, and touched my face. "Take care of yourself, Dottie. I'll see you later." 

I watched him walk out the door, and slowly walked into the kitchen to warm up some soup. It looked like I'd blown it again. 


	5. chapter 5

What the hell was I thinking? I was sitting in truck outside Dottie's home trying to figure out what had just happened inside. 'The woman in there is mourning her family, and you try to kiss her? What the hell is wrong with you?' Shaking my head, I slowly backed out of the driveway and headed for home. 

It was a week later before I managed to make it to the Hilltop. All hell had broken loose at the office with Rabb defending a Marine Sgt. of Afghan descent charged with espionage. With Roberts still out of commission, we were shorthanded, so Singer was prosecuting. It was a public relations nightmare, and the SecNav, in his ultimate wisdom, dumped the whole mess in my lap. I swear that man was determined to give me an ulcer. I think he was succeeding. 

I came in around 1900 hours to the shock of my life. Here, in my little out of the way hideaway that no one I worked with knew about, sat Clayton Webb, talking to the woman who'd been in my thoughts all week. I remembered that he'd been here before, when he'd tracked me down to tell me about Bud's accident, but what the hell was he doing acting like he and Dottie were old friends? 

As they talked, he reached over and squeezed her hand. I felt like I'd been kicked in the gut. Must have been the chili at lunch. Realizing I was standing in the door like a fool, I walked over and took a seat a little ways down the bar from them. The brunette who'd waited on me last week came over. 

"Hi, can I get you something?" Her smile looked strained. 

"Yeah, um, Rachel, isn't it? Just a draft." 

She kept glancing at me as she poured my beer until she placed my face. "You were in here last week, right?" 

I nodded at her, then toward Dottie, who was still engrossed in conversation with Webb. "How's she doing?" 

"Oh, just fine, tonight. I was supposed to leave thirty minutes ago, but her good looking friend came in and she hasn't stopped talking to him yet." Something told me her aggravation wasn't so much about having to work late as it was about Dottie monopolizing Webb's time. Webb. Some people's taste just amazed me. 

Finally, the two of them managed to pry their attention away from each other and acknowledge the rest of the world. I heard Webb's unusually cheerful voice call out. "Admiral! I didn't see you come in." 

Well, that was obvious. "I hope you're more careful out in the field, Webb. I'd hate to see you get my people hurt, again." 

"I'm always careful when I'm on assignment, AJ. You should know that by now." His voice was still friendly, but more guarded now. 

I ignored his comment. If I had my way, I'd ignore him all together. I turned my gaze to his companion. "Dottie. How are you?" 

Her smile was decidedly uncomfortable. "Better. Thanks." 

"Good." God, this sucked. And my vocabulary was suffering from too much exposure to Tiner. "So, you two know each other?" Smooth, Chegwidden, real smooth. 

Clay was the one to speak up, damn him. "We've known each other most of our lives. How old were you when we met, Doro?" 

Doro? 

I could barely hear her answer. "About eleven, I think." 

"Yeah, that sounds about right. Doro's mother worked for my mother, and she'd come with her most of the time. Nothing like being a nine year old and having a crush on an 'older woman' who thinks you're a bratty little kid. But eventually we became friends," Clay explained. 

Rachel spoke up. "So this is your friend Clay you've told me about?" 

Dottie nodded, and seemed to regain a little of her usual personality. "Yes. Clay, this is my best friend, Rachel Little. Rachel, Clayton Webb, my sorta kinda big brother." 

Big brother. That knot in my gut loosened a bit. 

I recognized the look in Rachel's eyes and bit back a smile as she moved in for the kill. As she proceeded to claim Webb's attention, Dottie wandered back down toward my end of the bar. 

Both of us took turns looking at the other, then looking away. Finally, the silence got to both of us, because we spoke at the same time. 

"Listen, I want to apologize for..." 

"I'm sorry if I did something..." 

We both stopped and I smiled. "Ladies first." 

"I just wanted to apologize for being such a basket case the other day." 

"Dottie, you were just being human. There's nothing for you to apologize for. I, on the other hand, owe you one." 

"What the hell for?" 

"You were upset and I was almost tempted to, I don't know, take advantage of the situation? I'm really sorry about that." God was I glad I had that beer in front of me. 

"Almost tempted? What stopped you?" When I looked up, surprised, her expression hit me like a freight train. Her eyes told me almost everything I needed to know. 

"When I do kiss you," her eyes lit up, "it will be about you and me. Not about Travis, or Neely, or trying to comfort you." 

"When? Not if?" 

"When." 

She gave me the first real smile I'd gotten all night. "Be careful, or I'll hold you to that, AJ." 

I was tempted to walk around the bar and prove it to her, but Webb, with his usual impecible timing, stood up, getting her attention again. 

"You leaving, Clay?" 

I noticed him slipping a piece of paper into his pocket, and knew from the look on Rachel's face that it held her phone number. 

"Yes, I promised Mother that I'd come by to see her tonight. It was good to see you again, Doro. Let's not wait so long next time."  


She'd come around the bar and hugged him briefly. "Count on it. Tell your mother I said hello." 

"I will. AJ, good to see you." 

"Webb. It's been interesting, as usual." I shook his hand and watched Dottie watch him walk out. 


	6. chapter 6

He was still there. This was really strange. Usually, AJ would come in for a beer or two, and hang around for a couple of hours, but tonight, he'd been here almost my entire shift. I was getting more and more nervous, because I wasn't sure what he was up to. Sure, he'd said he was gonna kiss me, but I wasn't exactly taking that seriously. I mean, let's get real here. All of my fantasizing aside, a man like AJ Chegwidden and a woman like me? Please. That man could have any woman he wanted and he's gonna pick a high school drop out who runs a bar? On what planet? That still left the question of why he was hanging around. Then it hit me. The real reason I was so nervous. It wasn't because a man, even one like AJ, might actually be interested in me. It was that it _was _AJ. I had built up this entire romantic fantasy of what he would be like if he was interested. What if the real thing didn't live up to the fantasy? Did I really want to lose the only man, albeit an imaginary one, to keep me company at night for longer than I cared to admit? And if he didn't live up to my dream man, would it ruin what had become a pretty good friendship? 

I looked at my watch and saw that it was 12:45. Almost closing time. And AJ was still here. He never stayed this late. Sighing, I announced last call to the few remaining college kids who'd hung around the pool table all evening. God, what was he doing? My nerves were worn to a frazzle. What the hell was a frazzle anyway? I remembered my mother using that phrase, but damned if I knew what it meant. Ok, Dottie, breathe. He was just sitting there watching me. Maybe he was waiting for me to say something. What the hell was I going to say? Knowing my luck, he was staring at me because I had something stuck in my teeth or something. Oh, God. I walked over to clean off the table the students had been using, and casually checked to make sure my jeans were zipped. Yup. Zipper up, As far as I could tell without a mirror, my teeth were clean. Ok, those two options were taken care of. And they still didn't answer my question. 

I carried the mugs back to the bar and quickly washed them out. Sensing someone behind me, I spun around so quickly that I almost dropped the mug I'd been about to put on the rack to dry. I wanted to blame the pounding of my pulse on the scare, but I knew it was because AJ had come around the bar and was standing so close that he was able to catch the mug before it shattered on the floor. He reached around me to put it in the rack, careful not to actually touch me. 

Damn. 

"Darlin', you need to relax." 

Relax? Relax? I couldn't freakin' breathe, and he wanted me to relax? Not likely. I tried to speak, but my mouth was too dry. I closed my eyes in a vain attempt to regain my balance, but when I opened them, he'd moved again. Now he had an arm on each side of me, reaching back to the counter behind my back, effectively pinning me against the bar, but still he wasn't actually touching me. I had the feeling that if he did, I would instantly dissolve into a gooey puddle on the floor. My knees already felt like they were turning to liquid. I grabbed the edge of the bar, hoping I wouldn't embarrass myself by sliding to the floor. 

Slowly, steadily, but determinedly, he leaned in until his lips barely touched mine. Amazingly, I was still standing. I realized that I was straining up on my toes to reach him, but I didn't care. By the time he finally deepened the kiss, I thought I was going to lose my mind, but when his tongue darted between my lips, I knew I would. One of us moaned. I think it was me. When he finally pulled back, I was glad for that white knuckled grip I had on the bar. 

He smiled that infinitely sexy smile of his. "See you tomorrow, Dottie." 

And he turned and walked out the door. 

As soon as the door swung closed behind him, I slid down the bar, and sat on the cold concrete floor. For all I knew right then I was sitting on a feather pillow. As I raised a trembling hand to my lips, I realized that, other than his mouth, he hadn't touched me at all. 

God help me when he does. 


	7. chapter 7

"HE DID WHAT?!?!" 

"Shhhhhh! Sheesh, Rach, why don't you just scream it to the world?" 

"Um, Dottie, we're the only ones here. The bar isn't open yet." 

I looked around nervously anyway. "So what? They could have heard that scream two blocks away." 

She rolled her eyes "Fine. I'll whisper if you want, but I want details. So, what, did he just walk up and grab you and kiss you?" 

"Not exactly." I explained to her how AJ had managed to kiss me without even touching me in any other way. 

"Wow." She leaned back against the bar and fanned herself with her hand. "So what did you do?" 

"Do?" 

"Do." If she rolled her eyes one more time, I was gonna smack her. "Did you kiss him back or what?" 

"I tried to breathe and not pass out. That's what I did." I shook my head and turned to finish setting up the bar. "How's Clay?" 

She sighed. "Well, he called last night, but he's going to be out of town for the next week. We're supposed to go out when he gets back. Does he spend a lot of time out of town?" 

I hesitated. I'd always known what Clay's parents had done for their country, and I suspected Clay was doing something similar. That line he'd given me about working for the State Department was the perfect setup for a spy. I didn't want to lie to Rachel, but I also didn't really know if I wanted to encourage her too much. Clay had always been a bit of a playboy, and even though I was sure he had a good heart, I didn't want to see my best friend get hurt. "I'm pretty sure that his job takes him out of the country quite a bit." 

"Damn. Oh, well. I guess I'll just have to make his welcome home that much more special, won't I?" 

Well, at least she had progressed from rolling her eyes to winking. "Should I warn him? He may want to have a chiropractor on call." 

"Very funny. No, I guess I'll save the whips and handcuffs for later." 

Great. We were back to the eye-rolling. "I'd laugh if I didn't know you owned those things." 

Surprisingly, she dropped the subject after that. Four hours later, I was actually wanting her to bring it back up. AJ hadn't showed up. Now I was seriously losing my mind. Any other night, I wouldn't have thought too much about it, but after what happened last night, and after he'd specifically said that he would see me tonight, I was getting worried. What if he'd changed his mind since he'd kissed me? What if he'd changed his mind _because_ he'd kissed me? What if I was just insane? My God, I sounded like one of those women in those trashy historical romance novels Rachel's always reading. A few deep breaths and I managed to calm myself down, only to turn around and almost start hyperventilating. 

"Good evening, Dottie." 

I found myself staring at the unreadable smile on his face as I searched for my voice. "Hey." Oh, that was good. "You want a beer?" 

"After a three hour meeting with the SecNav? Make it Scotch." 

A meeting. That explained why he was later than usual. "Bad day?" I set the glass in front of him. 

"And long." He took a sip of the amber liquid. 

"I don't suppose you want to talk about it?" Please tell me I didn't sound as desperate as I felt. 

He shook his head. "Can't." 

"Oh." Somehow I managed to keep a pleasant smile on my face as I walked over to Rachel. "Can you take over for a few? I've got to take care of something in the office." 

She turned around from where she'd been wiping down some tables to smirk at the sight of AJ sitting on his usual barstool. "Sure. You go take care of him all you want." 

Once again fighting the urge to smack her, I walked into the office and carefully closed the door behind me. I leaned back against it and closed my eyes. Shit. This was just what I was afraid of. I don't know how long I stood there leaning on the door. It was probably just a few minutes, but it felt like hours. I wish I could tell you what I was thinking, but my brain had frozen. I finally headed over to my desk, deciding I'd better sit down, since I could no longer feel my legs. I'd only made it halfway across the small room when the door behind me opened. I spun around to see AJ walk in, locking the door behind himself. "What are you doing in here?" 

"Trying to find out why you're hiding from me." He crossed his arms over his chest in a manner that I'm sure was very intimidating under usual circumstances. That night though, I couldn't have been more nervous than I already was, so the gesture was wasted. 

I couldn't help taking a step backwards, even as I tried my best brave voice. "I'm not hiding. I had some things I had to take care of." 

He nodded slightly before uncrossing his arms and rubbing one hand across the back of his neck. "Maybe I overstepped last night. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Maybe I'd better just go." 

I caught him as he reached for the doorknob. "Wait, AJ. Don't go." 

His gaze traveled from my hand on the sleeve of his uniform up to my face, but he didn't say anything. 

"Maybe we need to talk." I slid my hand down to his and led him over to the ratty love seat in the corner. "Why did you come in here, anyway?" 

One look at his face and I answered my own question. "I need to kill her." 

He grinned. "You don't want to do that. Then who would beat sense into my 'stubborn, male brain'?" 

"I apologize for my friend. She has no tact, and way too much interest in my business." 

"She's your best friend, of course she has too much interest in your business. What kind of friend would she be if she didn't? Of course, I have been in front of congressional subcommittees that asked easier questions." 

"Well, if this thing works out between her and Clay, maybe she can help him interrogate prisoners." 

He seemed to actually consider it. "She'd be good at it, but something tells me that's not what you wanted to talk about. Listen, I never meant to make you uncomfortable by kissing you like that. I wouldn't want to do anything that would mess up our friendship." 

"You didn't. I just, well, it's been a long time. Since I felt this way, I mean." 

He grinned that slow sexy grin. "What way is that?" 

"Huh?" Back to earth, Dottie. "Oh. Confused, attracted, a little scared maybe." 

"Ok, so maybe we'll just take this slow, and see where it goes." 

"I'd like that." 

The kiss that followed was slow, sweet and so hot my toes curled up inside my tennis shoes. 


	8. chapter 8

Damn, this woman knew how to kiss. Unfortunately, life chose to intrude just as she was getting relaxed. The knock at the office door sent her to the other side of the couch like a caught teenager. Or maybe that was me. I'm an Admiral, the Judge Advocate General of the United States Navy, for God's sake. What was it about her that made me forget who I was supposed to be? 

Dottie walked to the door, smoothing her hair back down where my hand had been tangled in it. "Yes?" 

I walked up behind her in time to see a man I barely recognized blush and stammer, "I think Rachel needs your help." 

"What is it, Donny?" 

"She's trying to get the car keys from one of those college kids, but he's drunk enough to get obnoxious." 

Without even sparing me a glance, she headed out for the commotion. I followed closely to see Rachel reaching for the baseball bat Dottie kept behind the bar. Dottie shook her head at her and quickly turned her attention to the young man standing belligerently by the door. She sighed and gave him her 'disappointed mom' face. "Billy Wayne, you know you don't need to be driving tonight. Now give me your keys and go sit down while I call you a cab." 

The big kid, who looked to be the recipient of a football scholarship, shook his head. "No ma'am, Mizz Dottie. I'm goin' home now, and I'll be drivin' myself." 

I had to give the kid credit, even though he was falling down drunk, he was still polite. 

Dottie's voice took a sharper turn. "Now, Billy, I know you don't want to hurt somebody." The kid shook his head. "And I know you don't want to hurt yourself and mess up that scholarship. Now give me the keys." 

When he still resisted, she walked right up to him. I wanted to snatch her out of his reach. Didn't she know how violent drunks could get? Before I could get to her, she reached up and snagged him by the ear. 'That's it,' I thought to myself, 'he's going to kill her', but this behemoth of an offensive lineman followed her meekly to a table. 

"Now you sit there, dammit, and don't make me call your momma." 

"Yes, ma'am." 

"And give me those keys." 

Billy Wayne dug a key ring out of his pocket and handed it over. Dottie took it, then walked back to his sniggering friends. "And you two." 

They stood there, not much smaller than Billy Wayne, and waited to see what she had to say. 

"Go over there and sit with him. You're no better off than he is. Next time, one of you stay sober enough to drive home, you hear me?" 

"Yes, ma'am." came out almost simultaneously. They obediently trudged over to the table to join their friend. 

I looked at Dottie with a new admiration. Where the hell had she been when I was dealing with Rabb and Brumby? She walked back over to the bar shaking her head. She passed the keys to Rachel. "Here, take these, give them to the cab driver when he gets here, would you?" 

Rachel grinned and nodded. 

Dottie turned back to me and looked puzzled by my grin. "What?" 

"Ever thought of joining the Navy?" 

Rachel laughed. "Yeah, in a past life she was a drill sergeant. You know, Dottie, it's almost closing time anyway, why don't you go on home?" 

Dottie grinned. "After that crack, I ought to leave you to close up by yourself. It would serve you right." 

"I was serious." 

Dottie's grin faded just a bit as she turned back to me. I knew what I wanted her to do, we had some unfinished business from the office, but this was going to be her decision. Finally, she sighed. "Okay, if you're stupid enough to make the offer, I'm smart enough to take you up on it." 

Was I smiling? Probably. I was definitely smiling when Dottie took my hand. "Come on, AJ. You can walk me to my car." 

Okay, subtle she wasn't. 

I waited while she grabbed her purse from behind the bar, and enjoyed a couple of vaguely jealous looks from a couple of the regulars. We walked to her car, and she opened the door, but stopped and turned around before getting inside. "So, um, would you like to come over for a cup of coffee or something?" 

Or something. That part sounded good. "Yeah, I'll just follow you." 

"Good." 

The look in her eyes was a mixture of nervousness, desire, and just a touch of fear. I wanted to make the fear go away, so I reached up and cupped her face with my hand. "You drive carefully, you hear?" 

"Oh, I will." 

She waited until I was in my truck before she pulled out of the parking lot. A few minutes later, we were walking up to her front door. When she unlocked it, then turned back toward me, I thought she'd changed her mind, but she simply took my hand and backed through the door, leading me inside. 


	9. chapter 9

I rolled over and pulled the covers up over my head. It was too early. What the hell was I doing awake? I wanted to go back to the dream. It had been one hell of a dream, hot, and sexy, and so realistic. I'd had similar dreams about AJ before, but none of them had lived up to this one. It has been unbelievable. If I tried really hard, I could still smell him on my sheets. In the dream, he'd come home with me, and we had done things that, well, just the memories of them made me want to blush. 

The sound of the shower running finally got through to me, and I sat straight up in bed. Oh, my God, it wasn't a dream. Grinning like an idiot, I climbed out of bed, delighting in the slight soreness of muscles that hadn't been used in way too long, and grabbed my robe. I only stubbed my toe once in my hurry to get to the kitchen and get the coffee started. I was staring into the refrigerator, debating fixing some eggs when I felt strong arms wrap around me from behind. 

"Good morning." 

I turned around in his arms to return his embrace. He was already dressed, darn it. "A very good morning. Do you have time for some breakfast?" 

He shook his head. "Sorry, I've got to get in to the office." 

"So tell me, do you always carry a clean uniform with you, or did you have some kind of hopes for last night that I didn't know about?" 

He grinned and my stomach flip flopped in a most enjoyable way. "A good officer is like a boy scout." 

"You mean a boy scout can...?" I got up on my tiptoes to whisper in his ear and remind him of something he'd done the night before. 

He laughed. "If I tell you yes, you'll start cruising the high schools. I meant that we're supposed to be prepared." 

Remembering a few moments from the night before, I had to add, "Well, then you must be one hell of an officer, Admiral Chegwidden." 

"So they tell me." He gave me a tender kiss, then pulled back from my arms. "I've got to get to work before I decide to call in and stay here all day." 

"And that would be a bad thing why?" 

"Definitely not a bad thing, but not very responsible. We're still short staffed." 

"Well, if you must, you must. How do you take your coffee?" 

"Black please." 

I poured some coffee into one of those car cups and put the lid on it for him. "Here. I don't want you to spill this all over you in the car." 

"Thanks." He picked up his duffle bag and headed toward the door. 

I followed him and managed to sneak in one more kiss before he left. I stood at the door and watched him drive away until I couldn't see him anymore, then closed the door. I leaned up against it, then blushed as I remembered what had happened there last night. Even without a mirror, I knew that my face got even redder as I glanced at the couch. No way could I walk through the bedroom to take a shower before I had a cup of coffee. 

Two hours later I had my thoughts and my complexion pretty much under control. Showered and dressed, I grabbed my makeup bag and took off for the bar, figuring I'd catch up on some paperwork before opening time. It was time to get my head back into reality. It wasn't an easy job, but I forced myself to concentrate on my bookkeeping. At least things were looking up there, so it wasn't as depressing as I'd been afraid it would be. The Hilltop seemed to be catching on with the local college kids this year, so receipts were up. I dreaded the influx in a way, because college kids always seem to act like college kids for some reason, but money was money. Sighing, I closed the ledger and walked into the office restroom to get ready for the night. I'd just finished putting on my makeup when I heard a voice from out front. 

"Where the hell are you, and when do I get the scoop on last night?" 

"Hello to you too, Rachel, and I have no idea what you're talking about." 

She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe, blocking me in the restroom. "Yeah, right. Come on, give it up." 

"I'm not talking, so get out of my way." 

Her face fell as she moved aside. "Don't tell me he didn't follow you home." 

"Yes, he did, but you're not getting any details." 

"Dottie, what's wrong?" 

"Nothing's wrong. Let's get set up for tonight." 

"Screw tonight! What happened last night?" Her eyes narrowed. "And don't tell me nothing happened. You're blushing." 

"I am not." The heat of my face told me I was lying. "Last night was great, ok? But it's not going to happen again, so I'm not going to rehash it for your entertainment." 

"What the hell are you talking about? Did he turn out to be some kind of wierdo or something? Why isn't it going to happen again?" 

I took a deep breath to steady myself. "He's not a wierdo. It was fantastic, ok? It was one of the best nights of my life, but that's it, ok?" 

"No, damn it, that's not ok. If it was so great, why are you so upset?" 

"Because," I sat down hard in the desk chair, "he comes from a different world, Rachel. He's a lawyer, and an admiral. He dates women who are judges, or doctors, or college professors, not high school dropouts. He loves Shakespeare and fancy Italian food, not Willie Nelson and chili." 

"So what? Obviously you two have something in common." 

"Yeah, a strong libido. That's not exactly enough to build a relationship on." She didn't say anything this time, just stood there and stared at me until I continued, "And I've been sitting here today realizing that what I want from him isn't what I thought I wanted." 

"Which is?" 

"I thought we could just have a good time together, mess around, no strings, the whole bit. But I want more. I can't be with him without having a relationship, a real relationship." 

"Wow, either you have it really bad, or he's really good." 

I smiled a little even though I felt tears sting my eyes. "Both." 

"How do you know that he doesn't like Shakespeare and Willie Nelson, or italian food and chili? He might surprise you." 

"Yeah, right, and pigs fly. So, have you heard from Clay lately?" 

"Nice change of subject. Matter of fact, he called me last night after I got home. We're supposed to go out to dinner tomorrow night." 

"Great. You realize that you'll be getting the same interrogation that you gave me the next day, right?" 

"Yeah, but I'll tell you all the details." 

"That's what I'm afraid of. Now let's go get this place ready for tonight." 


	10. chapter 10

Damn it, why was Dottie so stubborn? I'd spent the entire time before opening trying to talk her out of her "I'm not worthy" funk. Nothing worked. I'd pointed out that AJ didn't seem to be the type of guy to look down on someone because they didn't have an education. I'd pointed out that even though she didn't have a diploma, she ran her own business, read all the time, and listened to NPR. She answered that she was only running a bar, she only read for enjoyment, and that Car Talk didn't count as culture. As much as I hated to see her hurting, I was ready to smack her for not seeing that all of this was unnecessary. All she had to do was look at the man to see that he was crazy about her. 

"You know, your boss might get upset if you scrub all the finish off the bar." 

I looked up to see the grin that had started all of this commotion. "Hi, AJ." 

"Is Dottie around?" 

"Um, yeah, somewhere. I'll go see if I can find her." I knew exactly where she was, and I'd had enough of her anxiety tonight. 

She didn't look up from her desk until I'd slammed the office door behind me. "What the hell are you trying to pull by hiding in here?" 

"Go away, Rachel." 

"Go to hell, Dottie. I can't believe you ran in here and hid as soon as you saw AJ coming. What is wrong with you?" 

"I can't face him right now." 

"Look, you've got two choices. Either you go out there and talk to him, or I will. What's it going to be?" 

"You'd do it too, wouldn't you?" When I nodded, she stood up, glaring at me. "Fine." 

She stalked past me and out the door. I don't know what they talked about because I kept myself busy on the other side of the bar, and tried not to eavesdrop. God, it was hard, but I seriously tried. Then, about a half hour later, the coward came over to me. 

"Rachel, I think I'm getting a migraine. I don't think it's going to be busy tonight, so I'm going to go home." 

"Fine." I waited until she had turned away to mutter, "Chicken shit." 

She turned back around. "I heard that." 

I felt my eyes roll into the back of my head. "Fine. Run home." When the tears welled up in her eyes, I couldn't help softening some. "I really do hope you feel better." 

I waited till she was gone then walked over behind the bar. AJ and I were the only ones in the whole place. "You want another beer?" 

"Make it a scotch." He shoved his empty mug toward me. 

I poured a glass full for him and passed it over. I searched for something to say that wouldn't touch on sore subjects. "So, AJ, what can you tell me about Clayton Webb?" 

"Probably nothing you want to hear. Why are you interested in him anyway?" he growled. 

I shrugged. "I don't know, he's good looking," AJ snorted. "He's apparently loaded, and he seems like a really nice guy. What's not to like?" 

"Nice? Clayton Webb?" He looked like he was going to say something else, but he apparently changed him mind. "Let's just say I haven't exactly seen that side of him." 

"You know him from work, right?" 

He nodded. 

"Well, sometimes people act completely different when they aren't on the job. I bet the people you work with are sort of intimidated sometimes, aren't they?" 

"They'd damn well better be." 

"Well, I'm not intimidated by you, so maybe you act differently when you're not at work. Don't you think Clay could be the say way?" 

He just shrugged. 

We sat in silence for a few moments before he spoke again. "Do you think that maybe Dottie's still not over Travis?" 

That surprised me. "What do you mean?" 

"Well, she told me that she felt guilty about his death. I thought that maybe she wasn't over him yet." 

"Damn her." 

"What?" 

"She made excuses for him while he was alive, and it sounds like she's still doing it. What did she tell you about him?" 

"I got the impression that she didn't think she'd been a good enough wife to him." 

"That's bullshit! What did she tell you about the day he and Emily died?" 

"She didn't really talk about that day. All I know is what you told me, that he'd picked Emily up at school and they were killed by a teenager in a stolen car." 

I looked away for a moment, debating how much to tell him. The hell with it, Dottie would forgive me. Hopefully. "The day they were killed, Travis was leaving Dottie for his latest girlfriend. He was picking Emily up at school because he was going to take her with him when he ran away. He cheated on her the entire time they were married, probably even before." 

"Shit." 

"Exactly. Now she's built this whole fantasy marriage up in her mind. I'm going to kick her butt." 

"No. Butt kicking won't help right now." 

"I guess you're right. AJ, I'm sorry. I wish there was something I could do." 

"So do I, Rachel. So do I" 


	11. chapter 11

I had just walked in the door and dropped my briefcase on the table when the phone started ringing. Damn it, couldn't I even get two minutes to relax? At least it wasn't my cell phone, so that meant it probably wasn't an emergency. I stalked over to the side table and snatched up the receiver. "Webb." 

"Clay? Is this a bad time?" She sounded so unsure of herself that I almost didn't recognize the voice. 

"Rachel. No, I just got home." I loosened my tie and sank down on the sofa. "Are we still on for Saturday night?" 

"Yeah. I just, um, well..." 

"What's wrong?" 

She let out a big sigh before answering. "It's Dottie." 

I swore to myself that if Chegwidden had done something stupid, it wouldn't be my nose getting broken this time. "What happened?" 

Somehow, out of the whirlwind, breathless explanation that followed, I managed to ascertain that Dottie had convinced herself that she wasn't good enough for that cowboy of an admiral, and that it was up to me to convince her otherwise. So much for a relaxing evening at home. 

I got the directions to Doro's house and promised Rachel I'd call her later to let her know what happened. A half hour later I was parked in the driveway to an unassuming little frame house. I sat in the car for a minute, trying to remember what I was doing butting into Doro's business when I'd seen her all of twice in the last ten years. Then I remembered. Rachel. The smile snuck up on me. Some would say she wasn't my usual type, but I really didn't have a type. Most of the women I went out with were somehow connected with my job, which made for a boring social life. 

A car on the street behind me brought me back to the present, so I made myself get out of the car and walk up to front door. No one answered my knock. Great. I'd dragged myself over here, with only Rachel's iffy directions to guide me, and she wasn't even home. I'd already turned to go back to the car when I heard the music. It was faint, but it was definitely there. As I rounded the corner of the house, the music got louder, and there were lights on in several windows. My stomach was sinking as I went on around to the back door and knocked again. Still no answer. 

With horrible visions dancing in my head, I checked the lock. I was going to have to talk to Doro about getting some better security for her house. A three year old could pick this lock. Two minutes later, I was inside with my weapon drawn. A quick scan of the kitchen showed no signs of any disturbance, at least if you discounted the almost empty wine bottle on the counter. Cautiously, I followed the sound of the music, finally finding myself outside a closed door. The only sound was the radio. 

I eased open the door and checked inside the room. What I found had my jaw dropping open. Doro was fast asleep in a bubble bath, but the bubbles were quickly dissipating. My first reaction was to congratulate myself on the good taste I'd shown at the age of ten. My second reaction, which followed within a split second, was that she was going to kill me. I must have made some sort of noise, because her eyes popped open, followed quickly by her mouth, which let out an earsplitting scream. 

"Clayton! What the hell are you doing here?" 

She was scrambling to cover herself as I spun around to face the hallway. "I knocked but you didn't answer. I heard the music on, and I thought you'd... I mean, I thought something had... Oh, boy." 

"For God's sake, get out of here and let me put something on!" 

"Oh." Somehow I found myself out in the hall, closing the door behind me. I kept trying to get the image of her lying in the tub out of my head, but it seemed to be burned onto my retinas. I wandered back to the kitchen and reached for the open bottle on the counter. I found a glass in the cabinet and poured in some of the wine. I took a cautious sip and was pleasantly surprised by the quality of the wine. Taking my glass, I sat at the kitchen table and waited for Doro. 

She walked in a few minutes later wearing a set of blue flannel pajamas with pink flamingos scattered over them and a pair of pink fuzzy slippers. The outfit was doing a good job of obliterating the memory of what I'd seen in the bath. After pouring herself the rest of the wine, she sat down across from me. 

"Why are you here, Clayton?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Wait. Nevermind. Um, tell me, are you very fond of Rachel?" 

"Why do you ask?" 

"So I'll know whether to kill her, or just hurt her really bad." She took a drink of the wine. 

"She's worried about you, Doro. So am I." I reached across the small table and took her hand. "Do you want to tell me what has you so worked up?" 

"Not really. So, tell me about you and Rachel." 

"Nice try. I didn't drive all the way over here to talk about us. I came over here to talk about you. Did Chegwidden do something stupid?" 

"Yeah. He got involved with me. Well, I don't even know if you'd call it involved." 

"I think he would, but you're making no sense. Frankly, he should consider himself damned lucky." 

"Yeah, right. He's real lucky. Not. I'm sure that the high muckety-mucks in the Navy will look favorably on him being involved with a screwup like me." 

"Why the hell are you being so hard on yourself, woman?" 

"I'm being realistic, Clay. I don't fit into his world and that's that. It was stupid to let things get this far before I figured that out." 

"Just how far have things gotten anyway?" 

She blushed. I couldn't remember the last time I'd actually seen a woman blush. "None of your business, Clayton." 

"Nevermind, I think I got my answer." I didn't work for the agency for nothing. 

"Sweetheart, I don't know where you got your ideas about AJ Chegwidden, but I think you're mistaken. I've known the man for years, and while we haven't always gotten along," I couldn't help rubbing my nose just a bit, "I think I know him well enough to know that he is an honorable man. He is many things, but a snob is not one of them." 

"But I've heard him talk about the kind of women he usually dates, and they are educated, sophisticated women." 

"Which one was that? The doctor who was so hung up on her son that she couldn't see that he was a drug dealer until he got AJ's truck impounded? Or the professor who couldn't even boil water without setting her house on fire? At heart AJ is just a cowboy from Texas who likes chili and Shakespeare." 

"I don't know, Clay..." 

She wanted to believe me, but she still didn't have enough faith in herself to know that Chegwidden was definitely getting the better end of this deal. 

"Have I ever lied to you, Doro?" 

"Yes." 

"What? When?" 

"I was 13, and Mom gave me that really bad home perm. You said it looked great." 

"I was 11. You trusted me to know hair fashions?" 

"You seemed to think you knew everything else." 

"I did. And I still do. At least you're smiling." 

"Don't take credit, Clayton Webb. It's the wine." 

"Whatever you say." I stifled a yawn. "I'm sorry to run off, but I've been up since yesterday morning, and I have to get home." 

"Thanks for coming by, Clay." She stood up and walked me to the front door. "I'm really glad you're back in my life. I missed my friend." 

"I did too." I kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Make sure you lock up behind me, and see about getting some better locks on these doors. It was way too easy for me to get in here tonight." 

"I will, I promise." She watched me walk to my car, then closed the door behind me. 

It was going to be a long drive home. 


End file.
